Victory is Relative
by jacob1106
Summary: Every victor has their story. Some are prettier than other and some are darker, but there every story needs to be told.
1. Jeremiah Grey

**Hey everyone! So I know this isn't the update you were probably expecting. I've decided to start a story about all the previous victors, starting with the first and so forth. It's not going to be updated regularly, just whenever I hate time and inspiration. Stars is still my priority and I assure you I'm working very hard on it. But writing should be fun, and writing this was very fun. I hope you like it.**

* * *

 _"Victory is always possible for the person who refuses to stop fighting" Napoleon Hill_

* * *

"I don't get it mom." I question across the hardwood table that dominates our living room. "Shouldn't there be peace now that the war is technically over? Now that the dark days are over?" I immediately think of my father. He was one of the best soldiers District One had to offer; he was skilled in unarmed combat, military strategy and damn did he have good aim. But he's dead, just like everyone else who openly rebelled.

"It's a punishment sweetie." She leans back into the couch and sips her mimosa. Despite losing the war, or whatever you want to call it, District One is still doing pretty well for itself. Better than Thirteen. I push the thought of so much death aside. "This is their way of puffing their chest and making everyone scared. I give it ten years before it blows over and people realize how stupid it is."

"Walk me through this one more time. Please?" I admit, I wasn't really listening to her when she explained it. "You called it the Hunger Games?" She nods.

"Bottom line is, they're forcing a boy and girl between 12 and 18 to go into this arena and wait until only one remains. Then that person gets super rich. At least that's the general understand of it. The Capital is making a huge deal about it and is making it required viewing material. Couldn't imagine why." She kicks off her slippers and tucks her feet into the couch like it's not a big deal.

"I'm 17! You're saying I could be picked!" My palms immediately feel clammy and hot.

"Well technically I guess so. The older you are the more times they put your name in the lotto. They choose by random selection of course. However, there have been rumors that you can volunteer if you want." She sips again nonchalantly. "Who would do such a ridiculous thing!"

 _Yeah really, who would want to fight to the death on live TV?_

"Any way they're choosing who gets to participate tomorrow, you have to go. Promise you'll wear something nice? I don't want those ass holes down the road to think we've lost our class just because we were on the wrong side of this war." Mom's never been too fond of the Duncan's. They sided with The Capital and betrayed the district when things got serious. They chose wisely I guess.

"I promise."

* * *

"Hello District One." A military Capitalite dressed in class A's stands before everyone. The entire district has gathered here, it's quite incredible how few of us there are compared to what there were. Nearly everyone is short a parent and those who have both are definitely missing an aunt or uncle. This is such bullshit propaganda. "As you know I've been sent here to select the tributes for the very first Hunger Games. Personally I wanted to call you sacrifices, but the bigwigs decided on tribute. Any way let's get down to it shall we?"

The man with his dark leather boots makes echoes through the otherwise silent arena. Two glass bowls filled with countless names stand before him. He goes to each and pulls a name out. With a low sonorous voice he speaks.

"Tysha Duncan." I grin at the irony, the youngest Duncan girl, I think thirteen, gets dragged to the stage. She barks that her family loves The Capital so much. Serves them right for abandoning us all.

"And Jeremiah Grey." My heart stops.

 _What. This has got to be a joke._

People stare at me and people back away from me as though I'm contagious. I can't bring myself to move or function until a man wearing The Capital's military insignia starts towards me. I'd rather walk than be pushed.

Once I reach stage I shake hands with Tysha and get shuffled into another building.

* * *

Mom enters a few minutes later alone. "They said I only get a few minutes with you so I'm going to be brief. I need you to listen to every word I say understand." She speaks with the same precision that I would expect from one of the most notorious mastermind's behind the District's rebellion.

"They called it the Hunger _Games_ for a reason Jeremiah. Play the game. Be their pawn and do whatever they tell you to do. If they paint you as a nice guy be a nice guy, if they want you to look like a big man they act the part. Nothing The Capital does is coincidence, including naming this bullshit." Her words are exact, but not harsh. Mom always knew how to speak and think. Dad was the man of action, but mom she was the power behind the throne.

"When was the last time you picked up a spear or a bow? I know your father was prepping you to join the army before he died." She almost trips up mentioning his death but she very eloquently powers through.

"Tiber and I spar all the time." I say as coolly as she speaks to me.

"Excellent. You might be one of the only people going into this arena that knows how to fight. Use it." My eyes widen.

"Mom, are you suggest that I-"

"I'm not suggesting it, I'm telling you. If you want to survive this kill anyone who seems like they can fight. District Two always had a very heavy military presence, District Thirteen is gone or I'd tell you to watch out for them too. But you're from District One. You will come back to me my beautiful boy." She hugs me in an unexpected sign of affection, even so far as kissing me on the forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too. I'll be back."

* * *

The week spent in the Capital goes by in a blur. I do as my mom commands and push aside my personality to play the game, to be who they want me to be. After the chariot rides I was designated as one of the threats, so naturally once training started I began to flex a little bit and try to scare the other tributes. Tysha has avoided me at every turn, to which I am grateful. Nobody really talks, a few people have clearly paired up with the district partner but no one seems to stray too far from that.

One night we were each called into a room to privately show our talents. I grabbed some spears and threw them the best I could before sparring with a trainer. Some tributes scored as low as a 1, such as the little girl from Twelve, Tysha managed a 4. On the other end of the spectrum the girl from Two scored a 10 as did the boys from Four and Eight. The boy from Two got a 9 making them the highest ranked District. But I guess I impressed them most, I was the only tribute to score an 11.

The following night we were interviewed on live television. Tysha went first and wowed the crowd with her knowledge of the Capital, kissing ass like her family always does. When it was finally my turn I let the interviewer, a man named Lucan, talk me up. He bolsters my already substantial reputation as one of the front runners. Again, I do my best to sound confident, cocky, self assured. The audience buys my act wholehearted. I consider myself lucky mom taught me how to use my tongue for something other than girls. It's clear that some of the other tributes had no idea what was going on. The girl from Two, Claudia, came across as strong mentioning her father's military background. The boy from Four, Lakeland, brought up his expertise as a fisherman, revealing his talents a little too early. The boy from Eight, Marker, tells everyone about his past as a petty thief. The boy from Eleven burst into tears the second he reached stage, but in his defense so did a few others.

That night was spent shoving my face with as much food as possible, carbohydrate stacking as it were. It was the most fun I'd had since leaving One. But all good things must come to an end.

* * *

"This is your tracker. So we can keep tally on your vitals and location." A gruff woman jams a large needle into my arm, strangely I feel nothing. Again the boy from Eleven cries as she forces it into his arm.

The hovercraft ride is silent. Across from me sit people I couldn't pull out of a line up, but they're my competition. I try to memorize as much about them as possible, but decide against it, it's better if I don't know them personally, makes doing my duty that much easier.

It only takes a half an hour to land and again we're all shuffled away. I'm met by a man who doesn't speak to me directly only to the air around me. He directs me to a smaller chamber where I strip and put on a uniform of rubber soled boots, denim jeans, and a sturdy jacket. Apparently we have a uniform. Lovely. When I zip my jacket I understand why. There's a giant florescent '1' practically glowing green on the front.

"Get in the tube." My impulse is to tell him to ask nicely but mom's words echo in my mind. _Play the game._

"Of course." The clear tube closes around me and suddenly I'm moving up.

* * *

Rain. Steady cold fucking rain. And a giant golden horn filled with crates and weapons nearby. I can only assume that The Capital wants us to make a good show of the first few minutes. A giant digital clock starts ticking back from 60 and I start to commit everything to memory. Stone, nothing but stone. Low walls and parapets everywhere, a few towers topped with flags waving in the cold rainy breeze.

 _A fucking castle. How original_.

I swivel on my pedestal and see four main towers in the distance connected by a very large wall, probably the edge of the arena. Many smaller towers zig and zag within, above, under, and around each other. Drawbridges either up or down here and there. The occasional portcullis, most open. Even above me a stone walkway leading from bum fuck no where to shit hole city.

Next to me are two tributes I don't recognize but identify by their jackets and genders. The boy from Five and the girl from Nine. Neither left any impression on me. I glance at the clock. Ten seconds left. I find Tysha far away from me but next to Claudia. Marker no where to be found. Lakeland is only 3 spots away from me, conflict with him seems likely.

As the clock hits zero no one moves.

A few nervous glances are exchanged, none of us really know what to do. It's not like we can hit rewind and check out what people did last time.

 _Play the game._

I tentatively step down. The ground around me doesn't explode so I burst into a sprint towards the cornucopia. By the time I've reach a pack of spears and hiked a pair of backpacks on my shoulders most tributes are still barely moving, a few approaching with the same speed and determination I had, such as Lakeland.

As much as it pains me when he starts to approach I pull my arm back and let the spear soar. It takes him in the left shoulder, not a kill.

"Fuck!" He screams. After a few steps he yanks the spear from his shoulder and grabs a trident. _Aaaahhhh, the fisherman can use a trident, how quaint._ I'm surprised at his strength when he rushes me. I met him head on.

Our two pole arms clash against each other, his talent coming from daily familiarity, mine from rigorous military training. It's not a surprise when I pull a maneuver my father taught me and trip him. He trident clatters away and without a second thought I plunge my spear into his forehead. He stops moving immediately.

A few of the younger tributes stare at me like I just committed murder.

Oh wait.

I quickly survey the area and see I'm not the only one who's figured out the rules. A boy stabbing a girl in the stomach with a knife. Two girls yanking at each other's hair until one goes for the eyes. It's not until I spot Claudia do I take a second glance.

She has a sword in each hand and fends off Tysha and another tribute, the boy from Three it looks like. I watch, mesmerized, by her footwork and technique. It takes her but seconds to disarm both her opponents and stick them in the heart. It's watching Tysha fall to the ground with the blade being pulled from her chest that snaps me back to where I am.

"Kill or be killed." I whisper to myself. Most tributes are fleeing either from fear, wounds, or they got what they came for. Even Claudia starts running away grabbing a backpack.

A girl runs past me, from Eight, and I throw a spear directly between her shoulders. She collapses 15 feet from me. I run over to her and yank it from her spine, she died on contact. Her district partner, Marker, runs to confront me but once I face him he turns around and flees. Apparently not willing to gambling his life so willingly.

For another 5 minutes I throw spears at anyone who remains, but only land glancing blows. I tell myself it's a training exercise, that these are Capital invaders sent to burn District One to the ground. Eventually though, I'm alone at the cornucopia.

 _~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~_

A cannon sounds eleven times. I count the bodies and realize that it's one blast for every corpse. Two of which were because of me. But nine of which weren't. I hide under the rim of the cornucopia, dry, and eat my fill, grab what I want and can reasonably carry then leave the rest smashed to pieces.

 _Not bad for the first day._

* * *

Days of navigating this awful castle system lead me to one solid conclusion: I fucking hate architecture. I've been unable to find anyone in 2 days and the last kid I saw was on a completely different level dragging his bloody ass through an open portcullis. It's really the unmanageable drawbridges that make this a hell for me. I lower one drawbridge and then another portcullis closes or vice versa. There's never a straight path fucking anywhere. I try to light a fire with some wood I found inside a tower but all my matches have long been since soaked. It's been six days total in here. There's only 9 of us left. What do they expect us to do?

* * *

"For fuck's sake." I grab hold of my ankle. During one of the lovely spontaneous rain storms my boots slide out from under me as I tried to climb a particularly rough looking wall. I thought the uneven rocks would provide more surface to grab onto, but it just hurt more falling down. I landed on my ankle directly. It's not broken, but fuck does it hurt. What I wouldn't give for some pain meds. As if my thought were being read by the gods an omnipresent voice fills the arena.

"Tributes. Congrats on making the Final Eight. Everyone is very pleased. In order to celebrate your hard work so far and to demonstrate the generosity of The Capital we've decided to hold a feast in your honor. Go to the cornucopia in exactly three hours. You will find everything you need for victory there. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor." As quickly as it came, the voice is gone. Time to find the cornucopia.

* * *

It takes what I would estimate an hour for me to find the cornucopia, I've spent most of my ten days in here closer to the center of the arena than naught. I find a very low wall to crouch behind until the time comes. I quickly think over anyone I can remember is still alive. It boils down to two people, Claudia who is probably my biggest competition still alive, and Marker the boy whose district partner I killed in front of him. The other 5 tributes remain a mystery to me.

Eventually the ground begins to shake and I peer over my wall. The ground itself begins to move away from in front of the great horn and a table with a white cloth rises covered in everything I could ever want. Food. A tent. A white box with a red cross on it, no doubt a first aid kit. Dry clothes. Even more weapons.

Unlike the bloodbath I don't waste a second. The adrenaline temporarily numbs the pain in my ankle, and what little pain tries to dominate my mind I simply ignore. I slip off my backpack grab three spears and dash forward. Not to my surprise, Claudia too starts running from a wall farther away that I was. I'll be the first one there. My attention is drawn to the side for some reason, and I thank God for my perception. I drop to the ground just in time to watch an arrow whiz by my head. The girl from Six can shoot apparently.

I get off the cold stone ground and spring forward. I reach the table and grab a shield to block her next arrow. I respond in turn by throwing a spear at her, she ducks out of the way but I would have missed regardless. I grab the first aid kit and smash it open, gauze and tubes fly everywhere. I grab a few pill bottles and stuff them in my pocket, praying one is a pain killer. I spend a few more precious seconds grabbing the only two spears from the table and a box of dry matches.

The boy I started next to, from Five, comes up to the table with a knife raised high. He goes to stab me but I side step out of the way before kicking him in the knee. It bends backwards at an awful angle. He starts to scream, but I silence him with my spear. My third kill, almost instinctive.

Claudia reaches the table the same time as two other tributes whose faces and numbers I don't catch. She cuts one down almost immediately. The other prolongs her just enough for me to escape. For good measure I grab a cupcake as I leave the feast table. Wouldn't seem right not celebrating a victory.

A total of four cannons go off, leaving four of us alive. To my vexation none of the cannons belongs to Claudia or Marker.

* * *

Two very uneventful nights later a cannon explodes and awakens me. The face of the girl from Six, the one who tried to shoot me, lights the sky immediately. Without warning a tower in the distance collapses, one of the four largest outer towers. Then another one more inward collapses, leaving only giant piles of rubble. It dawns on me that this is their finale. I need to move. I throw my backpack away and grab the remaining 5 spears I have and my shield.

Running down stone stairs I get glimpses of bridges collapsing, bricks flying around, thunderous crashing everywhere. I reach a drawbridge that thankfully is down I sprint across just as the tower I was in implodes. Down another flight, through a gate, another bridge. Then I run into a room with velvet tapestries. The gate behind me slams shut and I turn to find a lever to open it but none exists. Within seconds Marker, then Claudia share my experience.

"Was always meant to be us wasn't it?" Marker asks out of breath. He puts his hands on his knees and leans, huffing.

"No. Just me." Claudia runs at him and uses a wooden chest as a springboard to jump on top of him. They collapse into a pile and roll back and forth until a cannon sounds. She rises.

"Bout time I get to fight you." I throw a spear at her but she knocks it from the air with one of her blades. She spins towards me as I throw two more at her, meeting the same fate. I drop one spear to the ground and hold tight the last one I have.

Her swords meet me with a crash. I block one with my shield and parry with the reach of my spear. I jab at her but her flickering blades knock the tip away. We dance for another 5 minutes each making close calls on the other's life. I have cuts on my back and one running down my arm. She has holes poking out of her shoulder and leg. None of it life threatening, until the blood loss starts to take it's tole. Another jab. Another parry. Another crash of sword on shield. My shield arm seeming slower, her footwork getting ever sloppier. We step back a few moments each catching our breath. I remove my shield and firmly grasp my spear with both hands. It's time to end this. We make eye contact and nod. Then burst forward. It's time to play the game.

I drop down and slide into her, her swords barely a foot above my head as I come crashing into her. But I came crashing spear first. I get up and pull the point from her chest. She tries to get up but I place my boot on her neck.

"Goodnight." I stompdown.

* * *

"Please tell us your favorite moment!" Lucan implores me. I answer honestly.

"It was getting away from the feast with the cupcake. I admit the matches kept me warm those last few nights and the pills worked wonders on my ankle, but the cupcake is what let me know I was destined to win." Everyone laughs. I've become an instant celebrity, my first day back and they patched me up and threw me back on stage.

"We're running out of time! Can you sum up this whole experience for us in one sentence?" I think about saying play the game, but that would be my mother speaking not me. So I settle for the next best thing.

"First victor ever has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Jeremiah I'm so proud of you!" My mom tackles me into a tremendous bear hug, crying. "I knew you could do it. I just simply knew it." She wipes away her tears and kisses my forehead. "After losing your father. I just don't know how I would have survived if I lost my son to those assholes in The Capital."

"Well you might have to share me with them for a little while, I'm in high demand. Lots of interviews and recaps and questions about how I learned to fight." I avoid eye contact with her. I don't want to hurt her feelings.

"Just don't loose yourself to The Capital, they change people"

"I promise mom I'll always be your Jeremiah."

* * *

If only that was true.

* * *

 **I hope you liked it or whatever. Let me know if you did or if you'd like to see more of these. Have a great day!**


	2. Daniel Stavros

**Once again I'm here with another victor and not a chapter of stars xD Sorry! I'm very close to posting a new chapter in that story but once again, this just kind of happened. I hope you like it! Without further wait the Victor of the Second Hunger Games!**

* * *

 _"Childhood should be carefree, playing in the sun; not living a nightmare in the darkness of the soul."_

 _Dave Pelzer_

* * *

"It is hot as balls today." I say as I swing the pickaxe into the ground, shattering pieces off the giant rock. Tristan and Bryson both laugh. "Seriously, does Mr Galloway need this trench to be done before the one guy arrives?" Setting the pickaxe down I grab some of the rubble and heave it over my head to the pair of younger guys.

"Damn this shit is heavy." Tristan struggles to life what I hand him into the wheelbarrow.

"Don't be such a girl. Picking up your sister last night was harder than picking up these rocks." I tell him. Bryson starts cackling and falls to the ground laughing. I let myself enjoy the moment and laugh a little too. There's not enough of it in District Ten the past few months.

"Leave my sister out of it Stavros!" Tristan blushes but chuckles to himself, recognizing a pure hearted jab when they come his way.

"Hey! You kids! Pick up the pace!" Our current 'shift manager' barks at us. I don't know his name, but he's a giant prick.

"We're on it!" Tristan yells back. Bryson quickly recovers from his laughing fit and goes back to hauling the rocks.

"But seriously guys why is everyone is such a shitty mood about this?" I ask.

"It's kind of a big deal I guess. Jeremiah Grey is making his way to every to every district to talk about the Hunger Games and winning and shit like that. The district has to look pretty for him." Tristan tells me.

"It's only been 6 months, can't they let us mourn and forget the whole thing?" I swing again more shards fly everywhere, a few strike my shins but I ignore the pain. Watching all the kids die, it was disgusting. We didn't even have anyone to root for after the top ten.

"Either way. We're getting paid big bucks to finish this trench, and I really need the money."

* * *

"While I never met either of your tributes when I rewatched the Hunger Games I saw their resourcefulness and drive to survive. It is these qualities that everyone can glean from District Ten. Their sacrifices don't have to be in vain when the lessons they left behind will be forever glorified in the histories as tributes in the Hunger Games. So it is with a honest disposition that I tell you all that while your district could not achieve victory, you should not despair when each year presents two more of you with the opportunity of eternal glory and the bountiful generosity of the Capital." Jeremiah Grey stands in front of the entire district preaching his bullshit propaganda. I stay a healthy distance away from the self righteous prick with Tristan and Bryson. I don't want to hear a word he says and I don't want to see his face.

Everyone acts like he's some type of hero because we're told to, because he's special and shit like that. He murdered innocent people. Fine, sure he didn't kill either one of our tributes but still, how are the people from District Two or Four going to receive this silver spoon panzy. I would stone him the second he steps off the train.

"Hey man, you alright? You look pissed." Bryson asks quietly. I realize I've been clenching my jaw and have fists balled at my side. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding and let my shoulders fall. There's no point in getting worked up over some pretty boy from District One. Or with the Hunger Games at all. After all, in 6 months once I'm done with the reaping I'll turn 19 and won't be eligible.

"So in closing, it is with a heavy heart that I must leave District Ten. You've all shown me such compassion and what survival is truly about. These lessons I shall carry with me so long as I remain a victor of the Hunger Games. And, as always, may the odds be ever in your favor."

The odds? He may be a victor, but he's not very smart. No one does math in District Ten.

* * *

"Our female tribute is Ivy Tash!" Bryson gasps next to me, Ivy is his younger sister. She's only 15. Not a baby by anyone's standards but still not exactly the age you want to be if you're being dragged off to a fight to the death.

"Maybe someone will volunteer?" Tristan says clearly out of obligation not conviction. She reaches the stages with dignity holding her head up high despite the tears on her cheeks. If she's anything like Bryson I know she'll be hellish competition.

"And for the boys, we will be having a Daniel Stavros." My heart stops. Immediately Bryson grabs my wrist. We make eye contact for a few seconds he looks more through me as opposed to at me. For the first time since I met the kid I've know since childhood, he starts crying. I pry my wrist from his iron grip and make my way to the stage. I clench my teeth until they hurt to avoid saying anything stupid.

"Shake hands now. It's only good sportsmanship." I grab Ivy's delicate hand and hold it in the air, a sign of camaraderie. I want to make a clear statement that my loyalty is to my district, no matter what The Capitol wants from me.

* * *

Tristan and my parents are my first visitors. They hug me and tell me how much they love me. Or I guess Tristan didn't say he loved me, but he's one of my best friends that sort of thing is just understood between two guys.

"Please come home my precious son. I don't know how we could survive without you." Mom sobs into the crux of my neck. I rub her back surprised that I have to comfort her when she's not the one going into a fight to the death, Oh well. She's my mom and I was taught to respect and love her. Naturally I pull her closer.

"Son, you know we love you. Just, please come back. I know it's a lot to ask but, promise you'll do whatever it takes." He understand the gravity of the situation. He's been in the shoes I now have to wear, just different circumstances. "I know it's not going to be easy. But it's better them than you."

I wait another 5 minutes, uncertain if I'll get anymore visitors. To my pleasure and surprise Bryson walks in.

"Bryson." I hug him before he has the chance to yell at me.

"Hey Daniel." He pats my back and pushes me away premature. "Look, can you promise me one thing." I nod at him vigorously. "If she's going to go, make sure it's as painless as possible. We watched people suffer last year. Please don't let that be her." I stare at him stunned. I was expecting him to command that I throw myself on the blade to save her. That her life was more valuable than mine.

"I promise." And a man never breaks a promise.

* * *

The train zips from the station quickly. The blurs whiz by us faster than I knew possible. But in the train Ivy stares at me with baby blues eyes, the eyes I recognize not as her's but as her brother's.

"We should team up." She says sternly. No doubt or question in her voice, no room for me to dissent. "I know I'm young but that doesn't mean I can't fight and it doesn't mean that I'm dead weight. I know you want to win, but we both stand a better chance if we team up."

"Well you're not wrong." Is all I can manage to reply. "You're not wrong."

"Good, that makes us allies." She sits down and nibbles on some bread.

 _This is for you Bryson._

* * *

"No. Stop. Have you ever started a fire in your life?" She punches me on the shoulder gently, an all too familiar gesture I'm used to from her brother. "Use the flint more like this." She hits a knife on a rock and sparks fly until some hay ignites. She looks on expectantly like I'm supposed to cheer for her all because she started a fire all by herself.

"I'm going to go hit something." I stand up and leave her to her devices. A quick glance around the training room reveals that the pair from District One are sparring with swords and the pair from District Two are throwing spears together. I want to be surprised that these four already seem dangerous, but given how Districts One, Two, and Thirteen practically ran the rebellion it makes sense that they would have some sort of military background and training.

 _The same people who were trying to protect us and win the war are now the ones trying to kill me, go figure._

I reach a station with a pick axe and I swing it hard into the chest of a foam dummy. It's almost a relief when rocks don't go flying everywhere.

* * *

Someone must have been impressed with me. I end up scoring a 9, just for swinging at a few dummies and trying to look strong. But I'm not the biggest surprise, Ivy who's half my weight and a foot shorter than me scores an 8. A few 10s from assorted people and one 11 from the boy from District Twelve.

When I ask her how she got an 8 she just grins at me and says that everyone needs to have a secret or two. The more and more I get to know this spitfire, the luckier I feel that she's my ally, but the worse I feel for hoping she dies.

* * *

"Tell me about District Ten." Lucan implores me like he cares.

"I don't know? Lots of cows and cow shit I guess." He laughs like what I said was actually funny.

"Please go on, what do you do for fun?" He asks with a grin.

"Mostly work. I don't think many people would call District Ten fun. Although sometimes me and my buddies throw cow pies at each other."

"What's a cow pie?" I laugh, who the hell doesn't know what a cow pie is?

"When a cow shits and it gets hard enough to throw like a disc." My interview abruptly ends and I'm quickly ushered off the stage. Apparently no one is interested in what life is really like in the Districts. Remind me why we have these stupid interviews?

* * *

"Are you nervous?" The hovercraft lifts off. Luckily, Ivy got seated right next to me where only we can hear our conversation.

"Not at all, I've got the best ally in the game." I say more honestly that I ever would have guessed.

"Same here." She leans back into her seat and we spend the flight in silence. Even though I only allied with her because I know that's what Bryson wanted I'm glad she's by my side. Between the two of us District Ten has a winner. I know it.

* * *

My platform goes up and up. I'm surprised when sunlight beams down and hits me, last year was almost exclusively rain. The t-shirt and shorts uniform with neatly woven 10's everywhere suggest that hopefully this year will be sunny, or at least not constant downpouring.

Once I'm done moving the theme of the arena is obvious. "It's a maze of maize." I say to myself, half impressed and half embarrassed for whoever designed this place. The corn is short enough for all of us to see each other and gets progressively shorter the closer you get to the cornucopia, but if I turned and ran then it only gets higher and higher.

Ivy is only a few spaces away and we grin at each other. We agreed we would need supplies, better safe than sorry. Although, I don't think food will be a problem.

When the clock hits zero only a handful react. But, Ivy and I do. Unlike last year it seems people understand the importance of these first few seconds. I hate myself for not being faster as the boy from Two reaches the horn first and strings a bow and arrow. He immediately knocks it and shoots the girl next to me through the neck. A few more people get there and immediately clash weapons. Even Ivy gets there before I do and has to dip between two people swings swords at each other.

When I finally reach the cornucopia the boy from Five stands in my way. I tackle him and throw him over my shoulder. He lands behind me and I keep running uninterested in his ultimate fate. I quickly grab a pitchfork, the first thing I see that I'm familiar with. Then I grab a backpack. Two. And a white box with a cross on it!

"We have to get out of here!" Ivy yells at me. A girl charges her but Ivy jumps backwards to dodge the girls sword and responds by knifing her in the stomach. The girl, from Seven it seems, grabs the knife sticking from her stomach wound and collapses. Dead.

"Come on!" I grab her by the arm a little too tightly and start dragging her away from the cornucopia. She snaps back to reality long enough to grab another knife and we escape unharmed.

We run until Ivy can't continue any longer. At the same moment 13 cannons go off.

* * *

That night when the sky is illuminated by the faces of the dead I'm pleased to see the girls from One and Two are already dead. So is the boy from Five, the one I tackled. Did I break his neck on accident? Or did someone else catch up to him after I knocked him over? Yet when the girl from Seven appears Ivy starts weeping. I should comfort her, but this is not place for weakness. She has to learn that one her own.

* * *

Not surprisingly the 8 foot corn stalks make for great cover and for a steady source of food. They also make so much noise that a deaf man could find us without trying.

"I'm going to hit the hay." I go to leave.

"Don't you mean hit the corn?" I give her an exasperated chuckle and leave. The last three days have really helped her get back to her old self. She was so sullen that first day I didn't know how to treat her. But my fierce buddy is back.

I walk for another 30 yards until I'm a safe distance away from our camp. I relieve myself quickly and kick some dirt over the puddle. Then I hear a shrill scream that could only belong to a young girl.

 _Ivy._

I spring into action and zip up my fly. Corn hits me in the face every step but I don't slow down until I burst into the opening. The girl from Three is slowly lowering her knife into Ivy's heart. Ivy has a firm grasp on the blade, no doubt destroying her hands, but is managing to keep her from getting a clean stick.

"Get off her you fucking bitch!" My skin boils. Without thinking I grab my pitchfork and run over to them. I kick the girl off of Ivy and jam the pitchfork into her chest. She starts coughing so I stab her again. And again. And again. And again. It goes in so smoothly and I'm so mad at her for touching my friend. I yell and jam the thing one more time into her chest. I fall backwards exhausted by the outburst of energy. Below me is no longer a tribute, or a girl, or human, but just a mangled pile of meat.

Completely unidentifiable and bloodied. Her family back home must be mortified.

 _It was self defense. She attacked first and I responded. It's her fault, not mine._

No matter what I tell myself that night when her face is in the sky she visits me in my nightmares.

* * *

"How are your hands today?" It's been four days since she was attacked and her hands are looking worse and worse each time we wake up. Last night she shivered the entire time no matter how many logs stoked the fire. She seems to think that the wound simply hasn't healed yet. But I can tell from the shiny red skin that she's got a mad infection, beyond anything the med kit I grabbed day one could help at this point. I just don't have the heart to tell her.

"They feel the same. But I feel way worse. I don't think I drank enough water last night." I hand her a canteen and she chugs the whole thing.

"We'll just have to drink more water I suppose." She nods at me.

"How do you seem so normal?" She asks out of the blue.

"I'm sorry?"

"After killing that girl. You don't seem messed up about it at all." _You can't see my nightmares Ivy don't pretend like I'm doing perfect._ I ignore the voice in my head.

"It's something my father taught me. He's an apothecary. Which means he makes medicines and poisons and things like that you know?" She nods. "He once told me that he had to slip poison into someone's drink to aid in the war effort. And he did."

"Shit. That's intense."

"Let me finish. When he told me about it he told me: 'Son, I don't regret killing that man for one simple reason. My family is more important than his.' And at the end of the day, my life is more important than hers to me." We sit in silence and spend the day, not navigating the maze and trying to map it in our minds but resting.

* * *

The day almost goes by without any action. A voice speaks to us all. "Congrats Final Eight! We're all very pleased with you so far. But it's been a little boring lately, and some of you need certain thing desperately. There will be a feast tomorrow at sunrise at the cornucopia. See you there, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

"I bet it's something for your hands! That would make them better! We should go." I stand up to start moving but she grabs my hand.

"No. I don't want to fight anymore tributes. If this is how I'm going to die, then so be it."

I clench my teeth until they hurt and give her a one word reply. "Ok." I sit back down, knowing that I have a promise to keep.

* * *

The sunsets a little earlier than normal and Ivy dozes off almost immediately after it dips below the horizon. The sleeping syrup from the med kit worked a little too perfect. At dinner she couldn't stop raving about how sweet the corn mush was, if she only knew. Would she be mad? Depressed? Relieved? Or like me, conflicted.

She shivers despite the heat and her back is visibly sweaty. I know the infection is going to kill her. I know she's in pain and I know with her refusal to let me help her at the feast her death is a sure thing.

 _So why doesn't that make it any easier?_

Her body looks so tiny when she sleeps. Like a baby calf sleeping in a different pen than its mother for the first time. But just like a sick calf, there's a job to do and it's too late to back out now.

"I'm so sorry Ivy."

I hate myself for noticing the pitchfork goes in and out just as easily as the first girl.

Another face joins my nightmares.

* * *

Within an hour of being awoken 4 cannons go off. The feast was a success for some body. That night when the faces appear in the sky I look away when I know that Ivy's baby blue eyes will be staring back at me. I find some peace though, the boy from District Twelve must've died at the feast. Which means I have no idea who my last competitors are. I pack my things up neatly and sleep holding my pitchfork.

Though I can't explain why that night it's not Ivy and the girl from Three I see when I close my eyes. But I see Tristan and Bryson being killed by the boy from Twelve.

* * *

The morning greets me with a new surprise, the maze has turned into a straight path and the typical corn stalks have been replaced by corn with leaves that clearly have razor edges. I get the message and start walking forward. I chug all my water and actually feel refreshed when I reach an opening.

A boy and girl join me from different paths. The girl is from Twelve and the boy from Six. He looks far more beaten up than any of us.

"It's Odica." She says flatly.

"Yoren." He says pained.

"Daniel." I say for some reason.

"I like to know the names of my victims." Odica pulls a pair of knives from her belt and rushes and Yoren. He blocks with a pickaxe and tries to swing back in retaliation. She's too quick though and darts around him making a stab into his calf. He falls to one knee and swings again, weaker. The look in her eyes is that of an animal eating it's prey. A quick stab and her blade is buried in his neck and he falls to the ground.

Yoren, from District Six is dead.

She turns to me with feral eyes. She approaches me slowly, cautiously. "How'd you make it this far? I know you haven't been doing much killing. My district partner Tork did a bunch of it. We were buddies, until I stopped needing him at the feast. You boys always have been dumb." She grins a little wide. She thinks I'm just another kill on her list she's wrong.

I don't gratify her with a response. Instead I jump forward and try to stab her face. She ducks and rushes under my pitchfork. She swings a knife out and it rakes across the knuckles on my left hand. I drop the pitchfork and back away from her, wounded.

She gets visibly relaxed as she approaches me. I trip on the ground and start crawling backwards until I reach Yoren's body.

"Such a pity. I thought you'd be a good fight." My hand starts fumbling on the ground.

 _Where is it?_ _Yes!_

"I'm the last fight you'll ever have." She smiles at me and I smile back. "Bye." My right arm swings around with a firm grasp on the pick axe Yoren dropped. It goes straight into her head. She dies before her body hits the ground.

* * *

Watching the replay makes one thing clear. I'm the hero of the story. Odica and Tork killed almost everyone after the bloodbath. At her death Odica has 4 kills and when he died Tork had 6 kills, including every tribute who scored a 10. I'm grateful for my 9 all of a sudden. I can't help but wonder:

 _What did Ivy do to get her 8? She said she had secrets._

* * *

"You promised." Bryson sits across the bar in tears. He takes another shot of something and continues to cry. "You fucking promised you shit head!" I give the bartender a thumbs up so he knows that Bryson is on my victor's tab. "You promise you wouldn't ever hurt her! That you would make sure she comes home! You son of a bitch!" More sobs. Heat in my chest makes me want to scream at him that I promise she wouldn't suffer. I never said I'd die for pulls me away.

"No one blames you man. You did what you had to do, it was just a little dark is all. We all thought you'd get her meds from the feast. You didn't even try."

"I was going to! She asked me not to! You saw that!" I shout loud enough for everyone in the bar to notice.

"I don't know what I saw, but it wasn't my best friend in their that's for fucking sure!" He chest bumps me back a few feet. And maybe it's the tequila talking but I scream back at him.

"You know what fuck you man! I never knew I was capable of all this, I was just an average kid. Some nights I'm terrified of myself, but I'd rather be terrified than dead."

That night for the first time since I came back no one joins me in my dreams. Maybe it's the alcohol. Maybe it's my dad's herbal tea finally starting to work. And maybe, just maybe, Ivy is forgiving me from beyond the grave.

* * *

For years I only found happiness in the bottom of a bottle. God I could chug away with the best of them by the time I was 20. No matter what people thought about what I did in the games it didn't matter. My reputation as a generous drunk overpowered whatever they saw on the big screen, after all why watch a man kill three little girls when you can watch him kill himself one shot at a time?

* * *

It wasn't until a very special young woman was reaped that I finally got my act together. Bringing her back was the moment everything started to make sense again. Maybe she helped me forgive myself for what I did. Or maybe finally saving a girl from District Ten made up for the girl I couldn't save from District Ten. Funny, even if you don't believe in karma and that shit it makes a lot of sense in the long run.

* * *

 **There you have the story of Daniel Stavros. My plan is to keep integrating old victors into the new stories and when they have successful mentorships and things like that so you'll see Daniel and Jeremiah in the future.**

 **Also thanks for the positive feedback from the first story I got a few messages saying that they liked it and that means a lot to me, let's me know that I'm not the only one enjoying my hard work.**

 **See you guys again with another victor soon!**


	3. Marney Thompson

**hey! so this is easily the longest victor I've written so far, she sort of just happened, it was a fun journey to write. I hope you enjoy it. Here's the story of Marney Thompson**

* * *

 _There's no one but me this time, and I'll take the easy life. - 'Easy Path' by Seafood_

* * *

The head of the axe chops cleanly through the oak and the piece splinters in half. One chunk flies past Dominic's head. He ducks out of the way and laughs.

"Trying to kill me Marn? That's not really very kind of you." He throws a piece of wood at my feet and I jump away giggling.

"Can't help myself, you're just so damn annoying!" I grin wide and wipe the sweat from my brow. It's been a hot summer for District Seven and cutting wood for 8 hours a day isn't really helping me stay cool. A few days ago Jayla had to took the week off, and yesterday Royce had to take a few hours off because of heat exhaustion. They're two of our best axemen!

"Break?" I ask Dom. He nods. We find a pair of tree stumps and sit down. He throws me a waterskin and I chug down my fill. Our friends Oakland and Pox join us chugging down their shares of the water.

"The worst part about the Hunger Games is honestly all the new regulations. I mean, now we have to ration water. Even during the worst part of the war we had all the water we needed." Pox says holding his canteen upside, empty.

"My favorite is how they don't understand why our quotas aren't being met. Every day a third of us pass out and the everyone else tries to pick up the slack." Oakland chimes in.

"You guys really shouldn't complain so loudly. Things are still tense with the higher ups and the second that someone hears what we're saying we're totally fired." I whisper to them. Some people call me cautious, I prefer to think of it as selectively bold.

"Easy for you to say Marn. You don't have a family to care for." Pox sits. Jayla only recently came back to work after they had their child. Little baby Frass is beautiful and one of the only beacons of hope in my life, but it certainly but a strain on Pox and Jayla. Now that Jayla has been out of commission a week I can only imagine the stress Pox is under to provide for them. Everyone tries to help out, but since the war things have gotten a little hierarchal, and we're on the short end of the stick.

Apparently The Capital holds a special grudge against us for supplying everyone with ironwood, the strongest and most durable nonmetal in Panem. Makes for strong canoes, boats, even shields when we got that desperate. But bullets don't care about wooden shields very much.

I drink the final few drops from my canteen and frown. This is my last ration until we're done. The sun tells me that we've got about 2 more hours of work left. I internally groan at myself.

"Come on guys get up." Dominic prodes. "I'm not getting yelled at for your lazy asses." He throws a few wood chips at us and we all jump up with smiles. That's the effect that Dominic has on people, he just makes them smile. It's a gift I crave. I grab my ax from the stump and head over to my next tree.

Not going to hack itself.

* * *

The sun finally sets under the horizon and our work day is done. Not even 15 feet out the door down the road home Dominic is on me. "So tomorrow after the reaping we going to have that date?" Dominic bumps me in the shoulder as I undo my ponytail. He's been asking me out for a few weeks now, the kid has determination.

"If I said yes you wouldn't find me nearly as exciting." I wink at him and ruffle my messy dark brown locks, the breeze feels amazing.

"Oh come on, you're playing hard to get and you know it." He nudges me again. I can't help but smile as I roll my eyes. He's right, I am playing hard to get. Why would I want to get intimately involved with one of my best friends? If things went poorly then everyone we know has to pick a side and that's so messy. It's just not something I'm willing to risk right now.

"You're cute. Why don't you ask again tomorrow." I wink at him. This time he rolls his eyes. He is adorable. Sandy blonde hair so uncharacteristic of District Seven and bright green eyes that any foliage would be jealous of. And his biceps, the true sign of a District Seven man.

He just doesn't understand, I'm not a gambler.

* * *

"Welcome everyone!" Some Capital representative stands up on the stage gleefully smiling about being the lucky woman to pull pieces of paper from a bowl. Not my idea of exciting. But if it floats your boat so be it. "Before we get started we have a film from The Capital for all of you!"

That's new. The past two years we've just gone straight into yanking names. The film is a short little tidbit that details the destruction of District Thirteen and tells us all about the riches the victor will receive from The Capital. All information we already have and know. Just more resources wasted on redundancy. It _does_ make them seem very kind and benevolent though, so if that was their goal I suppose they've accomplished it. Not that anyone with a brain would buy into it. We're going to be missing family members for a generation.

"Now let us begin." She prances over to the female bowl, her heels echoing loudly among the otherwise silent crowd. "Marney Thompson." I cough surprised to hear my name. The past two years they've only ever picked 18 year olds and I'm only 16! There's gotta be some clerical mistake. Or something. I stand my ground as two peacekeepers grab my wrists and 'escort' me to the stage. I struggle against them as much as I can, but they're much stronger than me.

"Excellent, so much spirit." I glare at her until her green eyes meet my brown ones. "And the boy will be Pox Forrester."

"Fuck!" Pox yells from the crowds. He shoves his way angrily through everyone until he's with me. He grabs my hand rudely and shakes it. "You fucking happy?" He starts to berate the name bowl drawing lady.

This isn't going to be good.

* * *

"I love you too Mom." She holds me close and rubs my back. "You'll see me soon."

"Bye Marney." My little brothers Teagan and Smithson both latch onto me and ruffle their hair like I always do. They're both 11, old enough to understand what's going on. What death is.

"You better behave while I'm gone. I expect nothing but good things from you two." I leave off the unspoken bit about how I might be gone forever, for my sake more so than theirs. After they leave Dom and Oakland come in. I notice that Jayla isn't with them.

"What're you going to do?" Oakland questions me forcefully.

"What do you mean 'what am I going to do'? I'm going to fight and come home." I respond instinctively.

"You're willing to let that baby grow up without a dad? That's fucked up Marn." Oakland says with tears in his eyes. My blood boils and for once in my life I let my rage fly.

"Oakland get the fuck out. I don't need your shit. I know you like him more and that he's more important than me to all of you but that doesn't mean I'm giving up for him. Fuck that. My life is more important to me." I point a finger at the door. "Leave. Now." He obeys. I grab my head and start walking in a circle until Dom engulfs me in his arms.

"Come home for me. Please. Fuck them. Come back to me." I press my lips against his hard. I try so hard to remember everything about this second. The smell of sweat and pine, the taste of mint, his rough hands on the sides of my face. His warm lips. It's my first kiss. It might be the only one I ever have.

In a flash a pair of peacekeepers drag him away from me. Before he leaves I shout. "I had to do that at least once." Then he's gone.

* * *

"This is so fucked up Marney." Pox sits across from me in the train. He bites into an apple like it wronged him before throwing it across the train cart. "Let's make a deal."

"I'm listening." It's unlike Pox to suggest a deal. He's not a give and take person, only take. Unless it's his family, which I know I'm not.

"You and me until the top 6 and then no strings attached." I consider his offer for a moment. Pox is the strongest kid in our group, probably one of the strongest in the district. He's been around axes since he was 10 and he just agreed to help me get to the top 6.

"Deal."

"Fair warning, no strings attached means no strings attached."

* * *

"Darling you look beautiful!" A man finished throwing glitter in my hair and as much as I hate him I agree. My hair is intricately braided with golden and green ribbons inserted for effect. My eyes pop with the blue contacts they gave me and the green shadowy makeup gives me a mysterious and dangerous looking appearance.

The dressed me up in a form fitting dress that frays out at the end. It looks like vines have woven their way around my body. It's honestly beautiful. I look dangerous, like the power of nature is mine to command.

Once I reach my chariot it only takes a few seconds before a redheaded boy comes up to me.

"My names Eerie. District Four. You look pretty hot in that get up. Must be District Seven am I right?" He licks his lips as his eyes undress me.

"Yeah, she is pervert. Now back the fuck up before I rearrange your face." Pox comes out of no where, clothed in only a tight pair of undies. He has paint on his body his accents his _finer_ features and makes him look very attractive.

"Wow calm down man. Just being friendly." Eerie holds his hands up in defense.

"Why don't you go be friends with someone else then? Doesn't that sound nice?" Eerie scampers away like a cat with his tail between his legs. "Fucking loser." I want to tell Pox that he was harsh, that I can handle myself. But I don't. That's not a smart move considering he's defending me. I'll keep it that way for as long as possible.

Once we start moving and reach the spotlights of the stadium it's clear that my costume is the undisputed favorite. It helps that Pox is looking good next to me but it's my costume they pan over the most. The girl from Five also gets some screen time with her electrical dress but I'm the focus.

I feel confident. Powerful. Dangerous.

Those feelings stayed with me the entire time I was in the Capital. I wish I carried them with me into The Games too. Can't have it all I suppose.

* * *

Training consisted mostly of watching Pox piss off different people. He goes to the axe station every day and does nothing but swing at dummies and shout at anyone who comes close to him. The boy from District One, Ace, confronted him once about how he was starting to scare his much younger district partner, but Pox didn't care. Pox screamed at Ace and threatened to dismember his district partner.

Pox certainly knows how to scare people.

I spend my time with less pizzaz. People noticed when I went to the axe station for a little combat training because I wasn't intimidated away. Again I felt confident going up to the person everyone kept calling unstable.

"Tree and people aren't that different you know." The trainer tells me as I swing at a dummy's chest. "If you strike low and they fall down then the hard part is already over." He points to the legs and I take a step back and swing again. I go right through the right leg and mostly through the second. "Now tell me, how is this tribute going to fight back?" The trainer winks at me and I smile.

"Thanks for the advice." I practice for another hour until I feel confident in my ankle biting abilities. The rest of training is a blur of knots and first aid.

* * *

"Marney Thompson." The monotoned voice beckons me.

"Give something to talk about Marn." Pox tells me with a nod. I walk through a short hallway before the Game makers greet me.

"You have 5 minutes miss. Good luck." I don't waste anytime. I grab some hempen rope, strong, sturdy, and fibrous. I tie a few knots and hang a dummy from a pole. then I get my mitts on an axe. I do the same leg crushing technique the trainer showed me on 4 dummies in a row before throwing the axe into the chest of the dummy I had already hung up. By the time the buzzer tells me to go there's sweat on my brow and a cocky smile on my face.

 _That was impressive by anyone's standards._

* * *

I wasn't wrong. My skills earned me the highest score of any female, a 9. Eerie scored an 8, Ace scored an 11, and Pox scored a 10. A few other stand out were the girl from 10 who got an 8, and the pair from Two who both got 8's. I couldn't help but notice that the little girl who Ace said was his district partner, Ella, was the only tribute to score below a 4. Across the board it's the highest batch of tributes yet. But still, I scored the highest for the girls. Clearly they already know who's coming back from all this.

* * *

"Everyone is raving about you! Please tell us what makes Marney Thompson tick!" Lucan, implores me. He seems genuinely interested in me, my talents, my skills, my history. So I tell him everything. We talk about the outfit, my trip here, how The Capital has been treating me. After a while he asks me about what District Seven is like.

"District Seven is hard work. I've been chopping down trees since I was 12 it's how I got these." I flex my muscles and the crowd erupts with applause. They love me, as they should.

"So then is it safe to say that you got that impressive 9 with some axe work?" He asks me genuinely.

"Yes it was, you're a clever man. Although I'm also pretty good with knots if you know what I mean." I wink into the crowd and they gasp before laughing. I get a few catcalls from the audience. It's all very flattering.

"Kinky my dear." Lucan says between laughs. Even though I'm not sure exactly what he means by kinky considering I'm a super virgin.

"A girl has to keep things interesting." Even I join in the laughter. A buzzer signals me to leave. The crowd screams and begs for more, and I wish I could stay I leave them with a promise though. "Don't worry I'll keep things interesting for you while I'm in the arena."

* * *

"So the windbreaker makes me think you might be getting some rain or lightning storms, but more likely than not it's going to just be really breezy all the time. Oh and these shoes have really strong soles so I would be expecting some pavement or cliffs. These will make for great climbing." My stylist tells me. Her name is Shan, and she's been nothing shy of perfect. I hold her in a hug.

"I'll see you soon?" I ask her.

"Of course. You are my favorite." She motions for me to enter the tube, and I do. It seals around me with a claustrophobic finality. Then I start to rise. A harsh breeze fills the tube as I go up until I break the surface and understand why.

We're on the top of a skyscraper. All 24 of us are atop a building stories above the ground. We all teeter on the edge, one step away from falling to a certain death. About 25 yards forward is a pillar that we're meant to climb up a ways to reach the golden horn. At the base of the pillar are the only visible escape routes. A few elevator doors that lead to another skyscraper no doubt. Any tribute who gets in one of those with an enemy will surely die. It's all very clever. I look around and can't find Pox anywhere. We did agree to meet at the cornucopia so it doesn't matter.

Confidence surges through me. I'm an excellent climber, being around trees does that to you. This is a perfect start. Once the timer runs out I burst forth with a smile. Almost everyone around me hesitates for a second but not me. I'm the first person I can see to reach the climbing pillar. I scamper up as quickly as possible. The stoney surface is rough on my hands but I ignore the pain and push further upwards.

Finally my fingers reach the top ledge. I heave myself over and find I'm the first person to the golden horn. Only, there's no food. No water. No backpacks. Just weapons. I push aside the thought of not being able to eat and grab a big axe then attach two more smaller ones to my belt.

More tributes are starting to get over the edge Ace to my right followed closely by Pox who meets him with a fist. The two boys fight hell bent on ending each other. Ace is very skilled with mace he grabbed. They parry back and forth.

I see Eerie's bright red hair start to peak over the lip of the pillar and I go over to him. He looks up at me, his fingers barely clutching onto the edge.

"Am I still hot?" I ask him as I step on his fingers. His first hand lets go quickly. And I take pleasure stomping on the second one and watching him fall. He lands head first and even from up here I can see his greymatter splattered across the ground. It looks like a stain of red and grey exploding from his head. I turn around to the fight at hand and see many tributes already dead.

Ace is clutching his arm while still holding his mace as he starts to climb over the edge. I run over to kick him off but he's too far down but the time I reach him. He looks up at me crying and shouts.

"He's going to kill you. He's demented." Clearly meaning Pox. I turn around to see Pox hacking away at what once was Ella's body. She's unrecognizable aside from her small frame.

He leaves her alone and chases after another tribute trying to escape but I stare at her. That tiny innocent little girl. She didn't ask for this. God knows that she never really stood a chance. Pox and Ace are both twice her size. It's not fair.

Eventually Pox snaps me out of my trance by shaking me.

"We're alive!" He grins. His whole body is covered in blood, and that's not an understatement. His teeth and eyes are the only things not covered in the red liquid. "I only got 3, hit Ace in the arm pretty good but he escaped."

"Nice." I say more out of obligation than anything else. I'm interrupted by the string of canons that follow the bloodbath. Fifteen in all. A new record I think. And I was a part of it.

"We could just stay here. Throw the bodies off the edge then no one would think of fucking with us."

That's exactly what we did. And that night with the wind howling all around us the faces of fifteen dead innocents lit the sky. For some faces I'm grateful, both from District Two are dead, and the girl from Ten. For some faces, like Ella's or Eerie's my heart aches.

But at least I'm in the top 9.

* * *

Once it was the morning of day 3 after doing nothing at the cornucopia for so long we decided to explore, mostly for food and water. The arena is far more simple that I thought. Not a complex system of skyscrapers just one impressive building. The 4 elevators at the base of the climbing pillar each lead to a different floor, and only that one floor.

On one floor we found plenty of water containers, clearly used by multiple people. One corner of the room has blood stains and a brick. Someone had to improvise. Pox thought it best if we smashed every water container we couldn't carry with us. And so we did. Without thinking I hacked my axe into the side of barrel after barrel smashing them until the floor was wet and soaking into my shoes.

Another floor we found a maze of offices. If I was alone, this is where I would hide. We don't search very hard though and we find no one.

The next elevator took us to a big empty room with a weapon rank in the corner. It's been picked clean but the floor is just as bloody as the cornucopia. Anyone who was unlucky enough to flee into this room was met with nothing but the knife of the first person who got here. Clever, cruel game makers.

Lastly, a giant floor with multiple vending machines. Only The Capital would create food called 'Cheetos' and put them in machines and call it food for the Hunger Games. Most of them have been broken into the food looted. We loot the last 3 machines we could find, and what we couldn't carry we crushed.

* * *

"Oh shit." Once we climb back up the pillar we're immediately met by the pair from District Twelve. I can't remember their scores but they both have blood on them and are armed with pickaxes.

Pox charges at the boy without blinking, axe raised high. They clash metal on metal. More cautiously I approach the girl and swing at her. She jumps back and tries to hack at me. I block with the shaft of my axe though. We go back and forth a few times swinging, dodging, grunting, praying for an easy win.

My focus broken when Pox shouts at us for our attention. He's holding the boy by the throat, his toes barely clinging to the edge. "Put your pickaxe down." Her eyes start to tear up and she throws the pickaxe over the edge of the climbing pillar.

"Please don't!" She fights back sobs. "Please! I'll do anything." Pox looks at me and nods. I bite the inside of my cheek and quickly swing my axe into her forehead. The force knocks her from the edge. At the same time Pox pushes the kid off the edge. Be it from my axe or from the fall. She's my second kill.

"That was exciting!" Pox hollars. "Top seven baby!"

That night I sleep as far away from him as possible and cling to one thought that brings me hope and peace.

 _Only one more until I can kill you without feeling guilty._

* * *

The next morning two cannons go off almost back to back. We look at each other with apprehension. It's officially time for 'no strings attached'. Yet before we go to strike at each other an elevator dings, two actually. We climb down the pillar quickly. Out of one elevator comes Ace, his arm functioning at full capability it looks. Out of the other comes a girl, from District Six, whose name and face I just don't recognize.

"So this is it!" Pox says with a grandiose arm gesture. "Bring it on Ace!" Ace looks nervous and brushes his hair from his face. He takes a few tentative steps out, as does the girl from Six.

"Anella this is the one I told you about." The girl walks over and the two of them create a unified front against Pox. Instinctively I stand by his side. Two on two fight for the victory.

The four of us run at each other.

Pox spins around Ace and begins an assault on Anella who replies with a serrated knife.

"I'm sorry." Ace says as he swings his mace at me. I duck underneath it I lash out with my axe. He jumps backwards then rushes at me. He grabs my hair with his hand and then knees me in the nose. It cracks and blood starts rushing but I ignore the pain. I swing at him again but he blocks with his mace. He jabs the spiked ball at me but his arms aren't long enough to connect with my body. I swing down at the mace and knock it from his grip.

Ace steps backwards and puts his hand in the air. A shriek fills the air as Pox grabs Anella by the arm and cuts it clean off. He throws it from the skyscraper. She grabs her bloody stump and he kicks her in the stomach. She falls backwards off the edge and we listen to her scream until she falls so far we can't hear her over the howling winds. A cannon finally tells us she's dead.

Quickly I kick the mace off the ledge and Ace lowers his head in defeat. I turn to look at Pox but he's charging me. He throws his axe at me and the only reason it doesn't take my head off is because Ace tackles me out of the way.

"Stay alive Marney." He says breathless. Pox kicks him in the head and Ace rolls away clutching his skull. Pox kicks him one more time in the back of the head and he goes still.

"Now it's your turn Marn. Sorry, but I have a baby to get home to." I crawl backwards until I'm at the edge of the building. One more foot and I'd be in mid air. I would rather take an axe to the face as opposed to fall until my heart gives out.

"Tell Dom that I think I loved him." I swallow a lump in my throat and suddenly am at peace. I close my eyes awaiting the blow.

"I will." For the first time since we got on that train he sounds like himself. My friend and coworker who would defend any of us.

"Tell him yourself." Ace's weak voice reaches my ears. I open my eyes in time to watch him tackle Pox, the boys both go tumbling until they finally fall off. A scream ripples through the arena like no other noise I've ever heard. It shakes me to my core. A few tentative fingers still clutched to the edge of the building. Without thinking I grab my axe axe scrape at the person's fingers. Not wanting to know if I'm killing my district partner or the man who just saved my life.

Whichever one it is screams just as loudly as the first one. I curl into a ball and start sobbing. My heart aches to know. I crawl over to the ledge, maybe I can still see who I killed falling. I have to know!

However I don't see either Ace or Pox. Instead I see the girl from District Three hanging from a window by a very intricate system of ropes forming a hammock of sorts.

"Oh shit." She says making eye contact with me. "I thought they were the last ones." She starts fumbling with a bow and arrow. But I don't let her get an arrow off. I grab one of my smaller axes that I've almost forgotten about. _Almost_. I throw it at the ropes and sure enough they cut. She falls with a screech.

I fall back on the skyscraper and let myself cry until four cannons fire off in succession.

 _~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM_

 _For Anella the girl with one arm. For Pox the boy who just wanted to provide for his child. For Ace who saved my life. And for a girl who's name I didn't even know._

* * *

It seems like a year before the claw finally rescues me.

"So Marney that was quite a show! The bloodiest start to a games yet AND the shortest Hunger Games to date! And you're the victor quite impressive wouldn't you say?" I nod along to him, but stare at my feet. The same surge of confidence this stage once gave me is now nothing but pain.

"On to the recap!" I bite my tongue as I watch myself on screen. With a smug grin I race to the pillar and climb up so quickly. My heart races as they zoom in on Eerie falling and then zoom in further on what's left of him. His face completely smashed. His once handsome face, now nothing but road kill. I want to vomit but I choke down the bile.

What amazes me is how blaize I am about Pox being certifiably psychotic. It's terrible how he hacked away at three people until they're dead and still managed to find time to maim Ace, who barely escaped!

The smart design of the elevators lead to another mini bloodbath in the weapons room and the water room. A total of 10 killed at the cornucopia and 5 killed between the two rooms. It's certainly deadly and awful, and some how I was ok with being a part of it. Surviving it.

I watch Ace get sponsored the heal salve he needs (apparently a Capital favorite to kill Pox) and the girl string herself up in the hammock. I find out her name is Margo. A few tributes die in random ways until the pair from Twelve sneak to the cornucopia while we're gone. As it turns out the girl was marrying his older brother, and I killed her. Someone says her name but I all hear is my heart thrumming in my ears.

Ace gets smart with the elevators and kills the two tributes by shoving them down the elevator well. As it turns out the main form of death is falling from very high places until your heart stops or you splatter. I can't imagine the sick fuck who thought of that.

Then the finale. I watch it all happen again, until Ace tackles Pox. I close my eyes as hard as I can and my blood pumps so deafeningly through my head I hear nothing. I don't want to know which I killed. I can't know. No matter which I killed they deserved to live more than I did. Pox has a child and Ace, Ace was just a decent human being. More than I'll ever be.

I open my eyes when the spotlights fall back on me a suffer through the rest of my interview.

* * *

District Seven really isn't the same. It didn't take much convincing for Dom and Royce to come live with my little brother, mom, and I. While I have no reason to, I still ration myself water like I had to at work. No one understands why. Including myself.

* * *

The interviews with The Capital get pretty monotonous. But, everyone loves talking to me. About fashion, about fighting skills, about how excited I am to mentor for 'generations to come'. I just nod and smile. One day I don't wear my blue contacts and Lucan seemed like he was flabberghasted. I wasn't the same girl because now my eyes were brown. To keep everyone happy I got surgery. They're permanently blue now.

* * *

One night I go to speak with Jayla at her shack. She had to move out of the house she and Pox shared. Money issues. I knock at the door and she opens. Her typically warm friendly face etched into a cold glower. Her eyes start to well up and before she speaks I slam the door shut.

I can't know if I killed Pox. I can't know if I killed little baby Frass's father. I try to walk away. I really do, but before I do I tell her one simple truth.

"If it was him. If it was Pox. I just want you to know." I take a deep breath as my eyes water. "Hearing him scream as he falls off the edge will never leave me."

Once word got around that I couldn't even face her I became a pariah of sorts. Royce quickly moved out and when I went to go speak with Oakland he wouldn't even look at him. I've just accepted that's the way things are.

Maybe it makes me a coward. But I sleep at night.

* * *

Three years after my victory Dom gets down on one knee and I agree to marry him. We share all sorts of kisses. To think, it all started because I got reaped.

* * *

It doesn't take long before I'm pregnant and the baby is on his way. Once he's born I tell Dom there's only one name I'll accept for my first born child.

Ace.

* * *

If you compared my life to that of my fellow victors some would call it boring. Some would say that I opted for the easy route by never really dealing with what I did in the arena. Some would say that my child is doomed from the start and I'm being irrational trying to raise him without weapon training. To them I say fuck you.

* * *

I lay in my bed. The breathing apparatus hooked up to my canul keeping me alive. My liver has given out after all these years. I told my sweet son Ace to do me one final favor before it was too late. To bring me Frass.

She opens the door and sits down. Such a thin beautiful girl. She looks at me with resentment, but it's hard to hate a 70 year old women when he's so pathetically weak.

"Why'd you have Ace bring me here?" Her tone is harsh.

"I think after all these years I should finally know, and you should be the one to tell me." She goes to leave. "Please Frass." She turns to face me.

"I hate you." She says flatly. "But you didn't kill my father."

After hearing that sentence I closed my eyes so I could finally sleep forever, at peace.

* * *

 **and so ends the story of Marney Thompson, I hope you enjoyed**


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